


And In The End

by GoldenClover



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 15:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13367397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenClover/pseuds/GoldenClover
Summary: He thought he would love me forever, though I knew it could not be so; elves are flighty things, enamoured with moments, not lives.(Gimli reflects on his relationship with Legolas while in the Halls of Aule)





	And In The End

We lay beneath the stars, my golden prince and I, when I was still young, and he was still mine. Aye, he loved me then, if only for a mortal moment, for what is a hundred years to the flighty hearts of elves? He loved me as he loved the flowers blooming in the spring and the red of dawn, a sweet, fleeting love that is forgot within a lifetime.

And yet, I cannot forget him, my golden-haired princeling, nor can I unlove him, for he is bound to me like the mountains to Arda. I loved him when I walked the plains of Rohan, and I love him now in the Halls of Aule, where he is as lost to me as the sun setting over the hills. I waited for him once, but alas, no more, for I know he shall not come; time can be cruel, and so can even the sweetest lovers.

He thought he loved me, the daft elf, his mouth pressed against mine, his eyelashes fluttering against my cheek. He called me _meleth_ , in the soft tongue of the elvish, but my poor prince, he could love nought but the night sky.

 _“Come, Meleth-Nin,”_ He called to me once, on a glowing evening in the riddermark, “ _Dance with me, and be happy!”_

Otherworldly he was that night, his skin glowing silver against the sky, his hair falling about his shoulders like silk. He wore flowers in his robes and danced under the stars, moonlight in his skin and the wild blue sky in his eyes. Ai, how I loved him!

And, oh, how I love him still! How I will always love him, that wild thing of the east, that laughing creature of the trees!

Where is he now, my dearest one? Does he remember me still, or have I too been forgotten, along with all the long years of his life? He thought he would love me forever, though I knew it could not be so; elves are flighty things, enamoured with moments, not lives. I shall love him till the end of the world, and then perhaps a little longer, but already he has forgotten me, his dwarvish lover, though it matters not anymore. I am dead, my body is buried, my clothes burnt; I have no more use for love or lament.


End file.
